


the promposal

by lohoron



Series: Jared/Richard One Shots [2]
Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: High School Prom, Jared being Jared, Love Confessions, M/M, Teenage Dorks, Teenagers, but a little bit better than usual, richard being richard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27533458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lohoron/pseuds/lohoron
Summary: Richard needs to do this.He can't continue to keep avoiding the way he feels when Jared's long fingers trail through his hair. He can not possibly keep pretending that it doesn't make his heart flip-flop every single fucking time.So. Prom is the perfect vehicle for his confession. He hopes.
Relationships: Jared Dunn/Richard Hendricks
Series: Jared/Richard One Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011459
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	the promposal

**Author's Note:**

> this is so ridiculously self indulgent... teenagers in a programming club :-)

It's a Friday.

Jared likes Fridays for exactly one reason: Programming Club.

Which is strange, considering the fact that Jared Dunn does not know (at all) how to do any type of programming. He can not code (they constantly talk about Java and python and Ruby) and then there's all these other things that they call languages (but as far as Jared can tell, there are no different words involved. It's all very similar and weird and impressively complicated). 

So then why does Jared like this club, that he literally can not partake in, so much?

Well, he has friends. Yeah. For the first time in forever, Jared actually, genuinely, has a group of friends that he looks forward to seeing every day. And Programming Club (they called it Pythons in the official high school yearbook, but it doesn't really make them any cooler. They like to think it does, though) is when he gets to be himself around a group of peers, something he never thought was possible. 

He holds back a bit, sure, and yeah, his ancient metaphors prove to be a bit overbearing for the rest of the group sometimes, but overall, it's nice. It's so nice that Jared has to believe that it'll fade away some day, or... or... it'll be revealed that he's been dreaming this whole time. That Gilfoyle's dead-panned humor isn't real. That Dinesh's snide, underperforming, remarks are imagined. That Erlich's colorful vocabulary was made up. That Big Head carrying a Double Gulp (which is somehow always fucking full) into every single club meeting is a lie.

Or, worst of all, that Richard isn't real. 

He's thought about it a number of times; Richard possibly being a hallucination. It just seems too good. Richard's friendship with him just seems to be much too nice for Jared to ever deserve. 

(Because they'll sit in Richard's empty house together in a fucking pillow fort, watching anime until they can't see straight. They'll laugh at old SNL episodes with Richard's head in Jared's lap, his fingers loosely (and habitually) stroking through Richard's curls. Richard started bringing lunches for Jared because he never had his own. Richard was the one that got him to join the club in the first place, despite his uselessness to the entire concept. Richard. Richard. Richard.)

(And yeah, Richard is nice to look at. Which is a bonus. But Jared never really thinks about that...)

He walks into room 002, shoved kindly in a corner of the basement, and takes his seat at his usual computer. Nobody else is here yet, as usual, Jared likes to get a head start. And Gilfoyle likes to smoke cigarettes outside the school building before every meeting. Dinesh always reluctantly waits for him. Erlich likes to take an edible during his last class so it'll hit right when they start. Every time without failure.

Setting down his tote, Jared gets out a notebook and a pen. He's been monitoring their meetings for the past few weeks, in hopes of gaining some intel into the technology language that they utilize. (It has not worked very well.) 

"What's up, fucker?" Erlich barges in, smile on his face. He's growing a goatee. Jared thinks it's absolutely fucking hilarious. 

He gives a kind nod and waves his hand, "Hey, Erlich. How's your day been?" He turns around, interest genuine.

Erlich doesn't really respond and Jared chalks it up to being stoned, but he bets that it's because he secretly hates Jared (Jared knows it's kinda true. So. But it's okay. Because most people have hated him all his life so to even have people pretend to tolerate him was kind of a relief). Dinesh and Gilfoyle walk in shortly after their lack-luster interaction, arguing loudly about whether The Matrix is better than Weird Science (which is a weird discussion to have in the first place; they're so different).

Jared feels at home here. His sweet, weird, little home with these people that he loves. His little home in a room of ten old computers and a small desk in the corner with some past-date cleaning supplies. 

But then Big Head walks in, and Richard isn't by his side, and Jared's face falls.

"Is Richard not coming today?" 

(He did seem very anxious at lunch today. Oh gosh, what if you've upset him? It must be you. This is horrendous. You have to apologize.)

"Richard is not coming today," Erlich says decidedly, logging into his desktop. Gilfoyle, Dinesh and Big Head do the same. Jared figures he'll wait. 

"How come? If you don't mind me asking?" Jared inquires, blush crept on his face.

Gilfoyle grins, shrugging, "Went home last period. We'll catch him up."

Jared does not want to seem noticeably sad, but he can't really help it. Richard is part of the Pythons experience. Part of the charm. And this is the first meeting Richard has missed where he hasn't taken Jared with him, as well.

(There's been two times; once when he failed his art assignment and just really needed a person to rant to. And once when he was just so fucking overwhelmed that it felt impossible to see all the usual vibrant personalities in Pythons. Jared and him had gone to get pizza and they just talked about their feelings for hours. Something Richard never allowed himself to do. Something Jared reserved for late-night journaling or talking into the cold air when Richard falls asleep earlier than himself at sleepovers.)

He boots up his computer.

It crashes immediately, and he shoots back out of his seat, his computer showing hundreds of lines of code against a bright green screen. (Great job, Donald. Now you've fucked this up, too.) "Um, I don't mean to... disrupt. But. My desktop is--"

"Holy shit," Gilfoyle says, walking towards the computer, "someone hacked your computer."

Jared's eyes go wide, staring back at Gilfoyle. "How do we get rid of it?! What can we do?" Jared's slightly panicked. His experience with technology is so incredibly limited. This is not helping the cause that tech is the next best thing. 

"Wait," Dinesh says slowly, standing up to be shoulder-to-shoulder with Gilfoyle, "Look on the screen."

_If you want your computer to go back to normal, click START_

The screen in black now, with type-writer font white lettering. There's a big, grey start button at the end of the sentence. "What? Do I-- I mean, do I press it?" Jared stammers, hovering his mouse.

"I mean, I would," Big Head shrugs, taking a sip of his infinite amount of Dr. Pepper.

It's enough for Jared to press it. The screen goes black for another second before popping back up with another line of text.

_Type in your name._

Jared does. Jared presses enter. The screen goes black again, and then he's in this little pixel RPG world. It looks a bit like Pixel Quest, a game that Richard has shown him before and tried to get him into (with little success). He moves up and down with his arrow keys and lets out a deep sigh when he comes to a little house. The rest of the guys are hovering over him, watching his every fucking move.

He enters, greeted by a speech box and a pixelated old lady.

_Hello! Oh, so _you're_ Jared! Follow along!_

He follows the lady into a room on the left, his character fading into darkness and coming back out on the other side. 

The room is nearly empty. There's a closet, a bed, a table with three chairs and a dog sleeping on a bed in the corner. There's some flowers on the table and a guitar hangs from the wall. Video game Jared approaches the guitar, but gets a message immediately (accompanied by a shaking of the screen), saying

_Not yet, greedy one! Let me give you the full tour._

"What is this?" Jared asks, scared, looking around to see everybody else anxiously awaiting the game's continuation. "Maybe I should not keep going. It's making me a bit terrified."

"No, no, just finish the damn thing. If it doesn't go back to normal after this, I can fix it, whatever. But I'm... intrigued," Erlich cocks an eyebrow up and smiles, and Jared feels an obligation. He walks towards the old lady. She's standing in front of the closet.

_So, Jared, what would you like to wear?_

His cursor blinks in front of his eyes, tantalizing him. What, he's supposed to type his fucking answer?

"Just type whatever," Dinesh calls out.

_Jeans and a t-shirt, please_

His character's outfit changes. He's wearing blue jeans and a green tee now.

_You look great! Now, take a seat at the table._

Jared's little character walks over to the table, hopping on one of the chairs. The old lady, who is still unnamed, sits across from him.

_Does this table remind you of anything?_

Jared squints. Yeah. It looks like the table that stood tall in the Monroe household. One of his favorite foster homes. But... that is such a weirdly deep and specific memory that he can't imagine that whoever hacked his computer had access to such an area. The flowers are the same, beautifully vibrant sunflowers. There's three seats, chairs mismatched just like they were in the Monroe household. He feels a little sick. The blinking cursor tantalizes him once again.

_Yes._

_The Monroes?_

Jared gasps audibly, folding his hand over his mouth anxiously. His hands are shaky as he presses the spacebar, allowing the dialogue to pass.

"What the fuck?" Jared whispers, watching the old lady now move to the guitar. "Who is doing this?"

"Why?" Dinesh asks slow, "Is it like, super weird that they would know that?"

Jared nods, "I barely ever talk about... things like that. I have no idea how anybody could know this."

_Can you play me a song?_

There's a pang in his chest. His guitar got taken away two months ago and he hasn't been able to play since. He only really knows one song. He clicks yes again.

The only song he knows how to play, First Day of My Life by Bright Eyes, starts to play acoustically in the background of the game. Jared feels lightheaded. This is scary. Terrifying. He cannot fathom this. Can't possibly imagine why this is happening to him. Who hacked his entire identity?!? Has somebody been watching his every move for _months?_ "Oh, I can't continue, this is frightening."

"No, no, just keep going. Cmon. I bet you're almost done," Big Head offers, setting down his drink. 

He takes a deep breath in.

_What a beautiful song._

The old lady walks over to the dog now, and Jared follows. Reluctantly. He doesn't want to disappoint his peers now.

_Remember Riley?_

He clicks yes again. Of course he remembers Riley.

He lost her three years ago. She was a beautiful tan and white Australian Sheppard with heterochromia and the most magnificent personality. She could play all day, God, Jared could've played with her all day. 

And then his foster father shot her. Killed her. In front of Jared. Just to let him know that he could never have anything good ever again. 

He tries not to cry.

_Jared, I listen to every word you say._  
_Come sit on the bed with me. I want to ask you a question._

"What the hell does any of this mean? I'm... How does this hacker know me? So deeply?" Jared whimpers helplessly (and he secretly wants it to be a person he can talk to every day; wants this hacker to be by his side. To listen to him).

Gilfoyle rests a hand on Jared's shoulder. "The final stretch, buddy."

Jared nods, shaky breath escaping his lips as he sits down on the bed next to the old lady. 

No more dialogue pops up. It's just them, sitting. Jared feels like he's going insane. Is this a hallucination? God, maybe. Maybe that's why the other guys don't seem freaked out at all. Oh, gosh, it's definitely a hallucination--!

And then he hears it; First Day of My Life playing from a distance. Out in the hallway of the basement. It's coming closer. Oh, shit, are they about to be murdered? All because of Jared's hacker-stalker?! Jared braces himself. He shuts his eyes and turns to the door, just praying that everything will be okay. Just praying. 

He feels someone swivel his chair so that it's fully facing the door. The sound is awfully close now.

"Jared?" It's Richard.

It's Richard's voice. Oh, thank God. He opens his eyes wide, about to explain the whole thing.

But then there's Richard. In the doorway. Wearing a tux. Holding a single sunflower. A blush bright on his cheeks.

The others scatter, lowering the light in the room and leaving (Erlich pats Richard on the back as he exits, smiling). "Wh- what?" Jared stutters out, dumbfounded. The song is still playing. So softly now that it's barely a memory. What's happening? What's happening?

"Uh-- look... look at the screen," Richard mumbles shakily, chuckling awkwardly. Jared slowly stares back at the screen. 

The person sitting next to him is no longer an old lady. It's a pixelated boy wearing a grey hoodie. The character name says Richard. The text box asks:

_Jared Dunn, will you go to prom with me?_

Jared's eyes tear up.

He stares back at Richard. And at the screen. And then at the sunflower in Richard's hand. And then at the sunflowers on top of the table in the game. 

"Uh-- did it-- Is it not... working?" Richard asks, anxious and shaky. He fumbles with the sleeve of his jacket. 

Jared wraps his hand around his mouth in shock, getting up from his seat. "Oh, gosh, Richard," Jared whispers, smiling bright.

Richard bites down on his lip, not daring to look up. "Do you-- uh, did I-- you don't have to. I mean--"

"Yes!" Jared chirps, wrapping his arms around Richard and pressing him into a hug. Richard chuckles. "Oh, gosh, yes, of course I will, Richard. I'd be delighted to go to prom with you. Absolutely delighted."

"Good, uh-- cool. Well. Uh. Me too. Delighted." Richard reaches into his pocket as soon as the embrace has been separated, handing Jared a _mixtape_ (out of all things! Jared feels so lucky!) with trembling hands. "Songs that we... that you showed me. And I showed you. And... uh- that we- like- listen to. Together. Since we met."

Jared feels a tear streaming down his face. "Oh, and this. The. Sunflower. Heh," Richard hands him the sunflower, too, wiping his sweaty palms against his suit pants.

"Richard," he stammers, heart feeling so beautifully full, "You didn't have to do all this for me."

"Uh-- I wanted to," Richard interrupts before he can get more self deprecating, "I... you deserve something. Like. Weird. And special. Uh. Sorry if I... like... freaked you. I just. I wanted it to be. A surprise."

Jared pulls him in for another embrace. This one, Richard returns. It's all warm, long arms and grateful whispers. It's Jared's nose against his neck as he smiles because _yes, something went right! Not everything has to be so hard all the time. He said yes._

They step back, and Richard is suddenly very aware of the silence in the room (the song has just ended. Perfectly on time). Softly, Richard places his hand against Jared's cheek and leans in slightly, whispering, "Can I..?"

Jared gasps back a soft, "Yes. Please."

And they're floating. Their noses are bumping. Richard's teeth are clattering against Jared's. Their lips are both entirely too wet. And it's absolutely delightful.

**Author's Note:**

> i can nOT STOP WRITING THESE DORKS!!!! they r my comfort characters i cant live without them


End file.
